Twenty Thousand, Eight Hundred Fifty Seven
by Spun
Summary: Magnus is a too-honest drunk, Alec experiences much self-doubt and doesn't sleep enough, Maia gives terrible advice, and Jace eats a sandwich. Can be summed up with the quote “So you think he’s going to leave you for someone who’s a better lay?"


**Twenty Thousand, Eight Hundred Fifty Seven**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Mortal Instruments_, Cassandra Clare does… and she can keep it.

**Warnings: **Slash. Crack. Implied sexytimes. _Rampant_ manwhoring.

**Notes:** I'm sure there is an excuse for this, but I'm too lazy to figure out what it is.

There's a lot of coffee in this story for some reason.

* * *

_2:38 a.m._

Magnus didn't behave much more bizarrely when he was drunk than he did when he was sober. Alec wasn't surprised – Magnus usually acted like he'd had a few too many, so why should it be any different when he actually had? He was a bit more cuddly, a bit more languid, and he sometimes started very bizarre conversations (such as the one they'd had a few weeks ago about how pineapples and apples were _nothing_ alike), but that was about it.

"You know," Magnus said suddenly, twirling a lock of Alec's hair around his fingers, "I love you."

Although, when he started with the spontaneous declarations of love, that was a sign he was past 'drunk' and on his way to 'conversing with inanimate objects'. On a normal day, Magnus told Alec that he loved him about three or four times. Tonight, he was up to thirty-six. Alec had only gotten to the apartment an hour ago.

"I mean it," Magnus continued. He was draped across the Shadowhunter like a sparkly, sharp-elbowed blanket, his head on Alec's chest, and with hardly any effort he slid himself up further so they were face to face. "We are very close right now."

"Yes…"

"Very close." Magnus leaned down and rested his forehead against Alec's. "I…" he began, with an air of someone about to make an important speech, "can see your contacts."

Alec closed his eyes. "Okay, Magnus, that's just _weird_. Are you sure you're only drunk?"

"Contracting chemically-induced schizophrenia hasn't been on my to-do list since the sixties." Smiling angelically, Magnus kissed him on the cheek and then nestled his head in the crook of Alec's neck. "Don't worry, I forgive you for the blatant misjudgment of my character, because I love you best."

"Best of _what_?" Alec yawned. He was dead tired – he, Jace, Clary, and Isabelle had spent the last seven hours tracking two flighty Raveners, only to be deprived of a fight when they both ended up in the same alley and killed one another. Jace and Isabelle were very disappointed. Alec had been all set to go home and drop into bed, but Magnus had called, cheerful and bubbly and asking him to come over, and it wasn't like he could say no, so off he went.

Magnus sighed dramatically, breath puffing against Alec's skin. "Best of everyone else I've slept with, obviously."

_Everyone else._ Alec blinked at the ceiling, oblivious to Magnus's fingers playing along the hem of his t-shirt. _Everyone else?_ Magnus was so much older, it was stupid to think he'd never had anyone before, but still… 'everyone else' made it seem like there had been a _lot_ of them.

The words slipped out of his mouth before he decided it was a bad idea to say them. "How many other people have you been with, anyway?"

"Um…" Magnus pursed his lips… and then he started counting on his fingers.

Alec watched for a minute. When Magnus passed one hundred, he said, "Magnus?"

"Sh!"

"I just –"

Magnus held up a hand, frowning. "Hang on, I'll be right back." He rolled off the couch with a surprising amount of motor control, given his current state, and walked off into the kitchen, where he started rummaging through the drawers.

"It's really not that important," Alec called, sitting up, but Magnus was already on his way back, calculator in hand. He'd told Alec once that he had stopped summoning things while drunk, even from the next room, after an incident with a pig and a jar of raspberry jelly, and always refused to elaborate further if it was brought up. "Look, forget it –"

"No, no, just give me a moment." Magnus sat back down and began punching buttons on the calculator. "Hm… no, that's wrong… wait… okay, got it!" he enthused. "I've slept with approximately twenty thousand, eight hundred fifty seven people."

Alec stared.

"Not counting twins, repeats, or long-term relationships," Magnus added.

Alec's voice had gone to hide someplace quiet and dark, along with his confidence, but he managed to choke out, "Twenty thousand, eight hundred… and fifty seven?!"

The warlock handed him the calculator, and Alec took it, numbly noting that it was bright pink and glittery. Not that he'd expected anything less. The screen read 20857.14286. "I rounded down," Magnus said, "as I've never met that particular fraction of a person before, much less slept with one. I think it would be an interesting experience, though."

Twenty thousand, eight hundred fifty seven. That was twenty thousand, eight hundred fifty six more people than Alec had been with. That was about twenty thousand, eight hundred more people than Alec even _knew_.

Some of his distress must have shown on his face, because Magnus took the calculator and tossed it onto the coffee table. "It's no big deal," he said, ruffling Alec's hair and stroking his cheek with his thumb. "Most of them didn't mean anything."

Alec took a deep breath and told himself to get over it. Of course Magnus had slept with a lot of people, he'd been alive for eight hundred years. "Right. Okay." He was not going to be petty and childish about this. Magnus was breathing against his neck again, lips _just_ brushing the underside of his jaw, and he was going to stop thinking and let himself enjoy what was left of the night. Really. Except, once again, his mouth was five blocks ahead of his brain and gaining speed. "Am I the best person you've ever been with?"

Magnus paused in his ministrations to consider this. "Um… well, I'd probably put you in the better half of twenty thousand. You're getting good at it." Then, almost like an afterthought, he said, "And I rather like the fact that you don't have a gag reflex."

Alec's pride went off to join his voice and his confidence. He imagined they were all sitting around a little campfire, talking about how they had been terribly maligned by someone who was _supposed_ to love them. And they were roasting marshmallows, because marshmallows made everything better.

Apparently realizing that hadn't come off as a compliment, Magnus leaned up and nuzzled his hair like some kind of glittery puppy. "Does it really matter?"

"No," Alec lied. He wished he had some marshmallows.

"Good!" Magnus smiled so brightly that Alec almost felt bad for being offended. "Because it doesn't. Don't be upset. You're still alright with this?" he asked, sliding a hand up Alec's shirt and stroking his side, cool fingertips coming to a halt at the top of his jeans.

Alec really thought about saying no – loudly – and then telling him exactly _why_ he was upset – also loudly. But, knowing Magnus, he wouldn't remember this too clearly after a few hours, and it would be a waste of time to yell at him if it didn't leave an impact. So he shrugged, smiled vaguely, and decided, as Magnus closed the distance between their lips, that they were going to have a _long_ talk later.

* * *

_7:07 a.m._

Magnus woke up with a headache that he knew he deserved and didn't regret.

_Ooh. Ouch._ He yawned and rolled over onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Memories of last night were fuzzy – he'd gone to that party under the pretense of 'social networking', when in reality he just wanted to get good and drunk to take his mind off the fact that he hadn't seen Alec in almost five days. It must have worked. He hazily recalled going home… he'd lounged around on the couch for a while… Alec had shown up, which had done wonders for his mood… and there had been sex. He was certain he'd heard Alec mumble something about marshmallows at some point, but couldn't put that into any sort of context and thus discarded the thought.

Raking his fingers through his hair and grimacing at the sweaty, stringy feel – he _definitely_ needed a shower – Magnus gave another jaw-cracking yawn and reached over to the left side of the bed.

His fingers met air and empty blankets that obviously hadn't seen body heat in a while.

Magnus raised his head a bit to look over the pile of covers, unconcerned. If the two of them didn't wake up in a knot of limbs, it was usually because Alec had rolled off the mattress sometime during the night and was sleeping on the floor. Magnus hadn't given any thought to an actual bed recently for that exact reason.

When he didn't spot an unruly mop of dark hair anywhere, Magnus sat up fully and frowned. The bathroom door was open, the lights off, so he ruled that out. Chairman Meow, who always followed Alec around like _he_ was the provider of food and toys and snuggles, was snoozing on the Shadowhunter's pillow. It was only seven. Where would anyone want to be besides bed at seven in the morning?

Wait. Had he done something stupid last night? Magnus tended to be brutally honest when he was drunk, and sometimes Alec asked questions he didn't really want the answers to, and if those two habits collided… but there had been sex, so either Magnus hadn't said anything he'd have to apologize for or Alec just wasn't offended.

That still didn't explain where Alec was, though. Magnus's brain was starting to feel like cotton candy. Giving up for the time being, he scratched Chairman Meow behind the ears, received an insulted 'how dare you touch me without permission' glare in response, and wandered off into the bathroom without tripping over anything.

Ten minutes and a hot shower later, Magnus felt less like a slug and more like the very fabulous and attractive warlock he was. He dried his hair with a snap of his fingers and was just reaching for his toothbrush when something occurred to him.

What if he'd said something stupid _after_ the sex?

"Damn it!" Teeth forgotten, Magnus went back into the bedroom and grabbed the jeans he'd been wearing yesterday. They looked clean enough, and he didn't really need a shirt anyway, so he put them on, yanked open the bedroom door, and took three steps into the hall.

Two more things occurred to him.

One: Where the hell was he going, anyway?

Two: The hallway smelled like coffee.

Magnus breathed a sigh of relief. There was coffee. If there was coffee, either Alec was still here or he had a hospitable burglar in his kitchen. Feeling a tad silly for freaking out like that (even if there was nobody to see it), he started walking again. Really, jumping to conclusions just because he'd woken up minus one bed partner? He was becoming one of _those_ people, the ones that had to know where their significant other was every second of the day and got clingy and needy and handcuffed themselves together.

Magnus stopped a foot from the kitchen, thought about that last one, and decided that perhaps the alcohol hadn't quite worn off yet. Maybe he should go back to bed. As long as he was awake, washed, and partially dressed, though, he might as well take advantage of the caffeine. He'd only gotten three hours of sleep.

Alec was sitting at the island, his back to the doorway, staring down at a chipped blue mug full of coffee like he expected it to provide him with all the answers in the universe. If it knew anything, it wasn't talking. Magnus padded over and kissed the top of his head. Alec's hair was damp – well, that explained why he hadn't had to abuse the shower to get any hot water this morning. He gave himself an F in Being Observant. "Morning, love."

"Hey," Alec murmured, turning the mug around and around in his hands. He didn't look up.

"If you're trying to stir that, a spoon would be better," Magnus said, continuing on towards the Holy Grail of Hot Caffeinated Beverages.

Instead of saying anything, Alec started adding sugar to his coffee. Magnus watched him with a slight frown – he'd never known Alec to put anything in his coffee. The warlock had once suggested he save time and just chew on the beans, only to find he'd already tried that and it apparently just wasn't the same.

"I have a spoon," Alec said finally, picking it up and waving it for emphasis. Then he stuck it in the mug and twirled it in a circle.

"Ah." Okay, now it was conceivable that his paranoid theories had a grain of truth to them. Alec was always _obnoxiously_ chirpy and cheery in the morning, even when he'd spent every night for the last week taking care of the swarm of demons that had popped up in Manhattan. Magnus poured his own coffee, stuck the empty pot in the sink, and turned around to lean on the counter and consider the unnaturally quiet Shadowhunter. "Is there something wrong?"

Alec's gaze flicked up to him, briefly, then returned to the mug. He dumped another spoonful of sugar in. "No."

Judging by the tone of voice, that was the kind of 'no' that meant 'yes'. Magnus started mentally counting down from ten.

He got to four before Alec abruptly stopped stirring his coffee and said, "How many other people have you been with besides me?"

Magnus blinked. _Was that what we were talking about? Damn._ If he answered truthfully, he was liable to open a can of large, relationship-ruining worms, but from the sound of it, he already had. He weighed his options – lie and hope he hadn't said anything, or tell him he'd had so many one-night stands he'd lost track after four hundred. Neither of them involved escaping without getting something thrown at him. _Damn, damn, damn, damn._ "Honestly, I don't know," he said, hoping this was the lesser of two evils. "A lot, I suppose. Why?"

Alec shrugged. Another heap of sugar went into the mug. "You gave me a pretty precise number last night."

_Damn!_ Next time he got drunk, he was duct-taping his mouth shut. "Alec, I don't remember _now_, and I'm sober – mostly, at least. I probably just made it up."

More sugar. The spoon was noisily grinding the granules against the ceramic. "Twenty thousand, eight hundred and fifty seven."

"That sounds like I made it up."

"You used a _calculator_." Alec removed the offending object from the pocket of his jeans and set it on the countertop. Magnus picked it up. "I even worked out how you got the number."

(800 x 365)/14 equaled Magnus's 'made-up' statistic, with a couple of extra digits tacked on after the decimal point.

The warlock stared at the calculator for a minute. He had a suspicion that assuming he'd only found a new partner every two weeks was being _very_ generous. The actual number was most likely closer to thirty thousand, but he certainly wasn't going to bring that up right now, not when Alec was eyeing him like he was going to be used for archery practice.

Magnus put the calculator down and slid it back across the island, not breaking eye contact. "I've been around for a long time, darling," he said. He opened the fridge, took out the milk, and added some into his neglected coffee. "And I didn't exactly take a vow of celibacy at any point."

"Twenty thousand is a _lot_."

"Not really." It was true – Magnus knew a warlock around his age, Tim, who had made it his life's goal to sleep with every woman he knew. If warlocks didn't have inhumanly resistant immune systems, he would probably have died from an overload of sexual diseases by the thirteen hundreds.

Alec sighed. "Fine. Whatever." As if to show the conversation was at an end, he took a gulp of coffee – and then spit it back into the mug, looking so disgusted Magnus had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "_Ugh_." He got up and dumped it out. The sludgy pile of sugar at the bottom hit the sink with a _splut_.

Magnus sipped his own, perfectly-prepared coffee, watching Alec scowl at the empty mug. "Look, I understand why you're mad, but I –"

"I'm not mad!"

Unconvinced, Magnus raised his eyebrows. "Is there something else wrong, then?"

"No."

"Are you –"

Alec slammed the mug into the sink with rather more force than was necessary. "Just forget it! I'm going home." Then, before Magnus could say a word, he stormed out of the kitchen. The apartment door banged shut a moment later.

Magnus realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it. "Shit," he said, setting his coffee down. What else had he drunkenly admitted that bothered Alec so much?

Sighing, he sat in Alec's vacated seat and frowned at the little pink calculator. Twenty thousand, eight hundred fifty seven. Magnus wondered if he could even remember the last fifteen.

* * *

_11:00 a.m._

Alec had wished he hadn't left as soon as the door closed behind him, but the last few shreds of his pride demanded he keep walking. So, he'd wandered around Brooklyn for a bit. By the time he realized he had left his contacts on the bathroom counter and that was why everything more than three feet in front of his face turned into fuzz, he'd managed to get _very_ lost. It took him three and a half hours to make his way home.

The Institute was silent when he got out of the elevator. His parents were stuck in Idris for the weekend and Jace and Isabelle were probably still sleeping. Sleep sounded like a worthwhile pursuit, actually. Even after he and Magnus gone to bed, around four o'clock, he'd lain awake and tried to figure out what to do with the new and quite unwanted information poking his brain with a stick. He had gotten up at six-thirty with the belief that Magnus was going to leave him soon for someone who was better in bed.

It was a really unreasonable conclusion and he knew it. Every time he thought about it, he told himself exactly how stupid it was – they'd been together for almost five months and Magnus hadn't gotten tired of him yet – but maybe that just meant it would happen soon. Considering his track record, staying with one person for five months was unheard of.

Realizing where this train of thought was going, Alec dug his knuckles into his forehead. _Shut up! You're being a total idiot!_ He walked down the hall as quietly as he could, shut himself in his room, and collapsed on the bed without even bothering to take off his coat or boots.

Okay, it was time to deal with this rationally. Magnus was not going to dump him. Magnus was _especially_ not going to dump him because he was inexperienced. He wasn't that shallow. Unless he was. Maybe that would explain why he liked stealth-glittering Alec's hair.

"Damn it!" Alec yelled. Why wouldn't his brain listen and stop _going_ there?!

There was a sudden _bang_ as though someone had kicked a wall. "I'm trying to sleep over here!" Jace hollered.

"Sorry," Alec said, just loud enough to be heard in the next room, and then pulled the pillow over his head and pressed his face into the mattress.

Sleep. He'd been awake for about thirty hours straight. He needed to shut off his brain and sleep. He released the pillow, letting it flop softly to the floor, and tugged the comforter around himself. Thanks to his early-morning shenanigans and six days of working nights, he was achy and tired and his eyes hurt from squinting at street signs for the last three hours. Sleeping would help. All he had to do was go to sleep.

* * *

_11:44 a.m._

Magnus sat down at the island with a blank sheet of paper and a purple pen.

He'd deduced that there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to remember twenty thousand people, ever, but as long as this was bothering him he might as well find out how many partners he _could_ remember. Therefore, once he had completely sobered up, fed the cat, and had something to eat, he settled down to begin soul-searching.

He decided to take the easiest route – begin with the most recent and go backwards.

**1. Alec.**

There, that was a good start. He smiled at the name and drew a little happy face next to it.

**2. Jamie.**

**3. The kid from the bar with the sexy accent. His name started with a G or a D or something.**

Fourth was Jamie again, but if he included all of the repeats, he'd be here forever. Magnus tapped the pen against his lips, deep in thought. There was Brittany, Rachel, that Josh guy from the pool, both of the selkies that lived downstairs, Emily… he grudgingly added Tim to the list, despite how hard he'd tried to suppress the memory. That had probably been his worst experience in the last two hundred years. He'd advised him to stick to women.

He had slept with Antoinette about a million times. Katie. Michael. A man who looked remarkably like Brad Pitt but turned out not to be. Another Katie, this one short and redheaded instead of tall and brunette.

This was easier than he'd thought it would be. Magnus wondered if that was good or bad.

* * *

_12:20 p.m._

Sleep was a lost cause.

* * *

_2:53 p.m._

Isabelle put the orange juice back into the fridge and shut the door, humming to herself. She'd heard some song last week in Macy's and it had been stuck in her head ever since. Maybe Simon would know what it was – she'd have to ask when she saw him tonight. And, speaking of tonight, she really needed to pick out something to wear besides pajama pants and a pink tank-top. It might get him in the right mood, but she could do so much better than that.

Isabelle took two steps into the living room and walked right into her brother.

"Sorry," she said quickly, "wasn't paying attention."

Alec just tilted his head to the side and regarded her like she was a particularly uninteresting piece of furniture that had just started talking to him. Isabelle stared back – he'd been really weird today. The whole 'wandering around in a daze' thing was normal, especially considering he'd spent the night at Magnus's, but he usually didn't look so _gloomy_ while he was wandering around in a daze. Maybe they were fighting. Maybe the sex had just been really bad, but she knew if she mentioned that, he'd get all flustered and insist nothing of the sort had happened. She had no idea why he kept denying it; it was like he thought they all didn't _know_.

He stepped out of her way and meandered over to the window. Without looking back at her, he said, "You don't have to answer it, but can I ask you a very personal and invasive question?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Yeah, sure." Jace asked her personal and invasive questions all the time, usually without a disclaimer.

"How many people have you slept with?"

There were a lot of things Isabelle did not expect to come out of Alec's mouth. This one barreled its way to the top of the list, crowned itself king, and started to establish a government and set currency. She blinked a few times – then, out of sheer curiosity (and probably a healthy dose of masochism), asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"Scientific interest," he said flatly.

_Bull. Shit._ "And what do you plan on _doing_ with this information?"

"Nothing. I just… I want to know." He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "You don't _have_ to tell me, I'm just curious."

Isabelle mulled it over. On the one hand, she had kept her sexcapades a secret because if her parents found out, she would never be allowed to leave the house again unless she was accompanied by a few nuns. On the other, as long as she didn't give any specific details about who she'd been with, there was little chance she might find one of her exes dead in a dumpster somewhere from protective-older-brother-related wounds. And she _really_ wanted to know why he was so interested. "If this gets back to Mom and Dad, I'll know it was you and you'll suffer accordingly," she warned. "Okay? More than two… but less than seven."

She smiled sweetly when he turned to look at her. "You asked."

Alec gaped at her for a moment, then he all but _wailed_, "Oh my _god_!" and took off out of the room, leaving his baffled sister behind.

"What's his problem?"

Isabelle turned around to see Jace standing in the doorway, munching on a sandwich, looking wholly unconcerned. "I think he's finally lost his mind," she said.

Jace hiked an eyebrow. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't lose something you didn't have to begin with."

"This is true. How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough." A piece of lettuce was making a break for it. Jace picked it off before it fell out of the side of his sandwich and stuck it in his mouth. "I have to say, I'm impressed."

"Thank you. I hope you didn't miss the part about 'suffering if you tell', though, because that applies to you too now."

Jace held up his hands. "My lips are sealed."

"Glad to hear it." Isabelle left Jace to his sandwich and headed towards her bedroom, her brother's odd behavior all but forgotten. She had a date to plan.

* * *

_3:11 p.m._

**155. Sabrina.**

**156. Rowan (female).**

**157. Rowan (male).**

**158. Erik.**

**159. That girl who bought me coffee at Starbucks.**

**160. Yet another Katie.**

* * *

_3:59 p.m._

"All right, let me go over this again and see if I've got it."

"Okay."

"Magnus slept with twenty thousand, eight hundred and fifty seven people before you."

"Right."

"Plus you."

"Right."

"And you've slept with him and that's it."

"Right."

"So this gap of twenty thousand, eight hundred and fifty six people is bothering you."

"That's just about it, yeah."

Maia popped the lid off her coffee, releasing a puff of steam into the air. "And here I thought _I_ had weird problems."

She'd been having an okay day so far. Sure, Simon was going out with _Isabelle_ instead of her tonight – again – but there were no Shadowhunter psychopaths out for her blood, the coven that had taken up residence dangerously close to the old police station weren't instigating for once, and Luke had been in a really good mood ever since he'd gotten together with Clary's mom, so things were going pretty well.

She had headed out for a walk about an hour ago in hopes of accidentally running into a certain vampire. That sort of thing always worked in the movies. It didn't work for _her_, though, because not only didn't she come across Simon, she had gotten a very puzzling phone call from Alec. She couldn't understand what he was rambling about, because when he talked that fast all his words ran together, but he'd said he'd buy her coffee if she came and kicked him in the head a few times. Free coffee and kicking people was always a plus.

Maia didn't know exactly how the two of them had ended up friends – it was one of those things that just happened, and when she finally noticed there was no turning back. Not that she'd want to, anyway. Wasn't it every girl's dream to have a gay best friend? Okay, so maybe she'd gotten the 'Diet Gay' best friend, since Alec was as far from flamboyant as one could get, and she doubted he'd be able to tell her if her outfit would impress Simon because she hadn't ever seen him wear anything that wasn't black (or dark enough to be considered black), but who cared? He was sweet in a klutzy, socially-inept way, and pretty close to sane, and that was sufficient for her.

However, Maia was _far_ from being a good relationship counselor, and this was well beyond her usual answer of 'talk it out, and if it doesn't work, I'll bite him for you'. "Okay… well, I don't know what you want me to do about it," she said, blowing on her coffee.

"I don't want you to _do_ anything. I just needed to complain to somebody." Alec was sitting across from her, methodically peeling a tangerine. "Wait, yes, I do. I want you to kick me in the head repeatedly, remember?"

Maia stuck a foot out into the aisle and looked at her shoes. "Um… I don't know. I'm wearing combat boots. Your skull would probably collapse after the third kick or so. It'd be messy, and the waitress is already glaring at us. What's her deal?"

"I always come in here and I never order anything."

"Oh." Maia had torn open a sugar packet and was pouring it into the cup when she had a thought. "Hold on, I have an idea." She swiped his napkin – he wasn't using it, and hers was under her coffee – dug through her pockets, and frowned when she came up empty. "Do you have a pen?"

He reached into his satchel and tossed one across the table. It was pink with little sparkly stars all over it. Maia raised her eyebrows at him. "He borrows my stuff, and it's like he thinks I won't _notice_ he's giving me something else back," Alec said, sounding more affectionate than irritated.

"You two are weird." Maia took the pen, scribbled on the napkin to make sure it worked – cripes, it even _wrote_ in bright pink – and got to work.

"All right," she said triumphantly a few minutes later, setting the pen down. "I have a solution." Alec propped his chin up on his hand and looked at her with those brilliantly blue eyes. Maybe it was true what they said about all the really good-looking guys being gay, she thought. Or dangerous sociopaths. Except for Simon, obviously. "Now, you're eighteen, and he's… eight hundred-ish, right?"

"Thereabouts."

"Yeah. I figured it out – during any given eighteen years of his life, Magnus slept with about four hundred and seventy people," Maia continued. "So, if _you_ sleep with four hundred and seventy people – well, four hundred and sixty nine, I guess – you'll technically be even."

She smiled. Alec did not look impressed. "You aren't taking this seriously, are you?"

"Not at all." Maia crumpled up the napkin and tossed it lightly at him. He caught it, of course. Damn Shadowhunters and their reflexes. "Look, if you _really_ want my opinion, I think you're overreacting."

"I _know_ I'm overreacting." He smoothed out the napkin and dumped a handful of peels onto it.

"Okay, so now you have to get over it."

"Easier said than done."

Sitting back against the cheap vinyl seat, Maia watched Alec arrange the tangerine slices in a little sunburst. "If you're just going to use those for their artistic merits, give them to me. I didn't have any lunch."

"I'll give you half."

"Deal." She took the slices he handed her and bit into one, slurping the juice out. "So, is there something besides the 'my boyfriend used to be a manwhore' thing going on?"

Alec groaned and buried his face in his arms. She took that as a yes. "Am I _that_ transparent?"

"Yep."

"… apparently, I suck in bed."

Maia stopped with a piece of tangerine two inches from her mouth. "Wait, did he actually _say_ that?!"

"It was more along the lines of me being in the 'better' half of twenty thousand, but…" he waved a hand lethargically and wound his fingers into his hair.

"So you think he's going to leave you for someone who's a better lay?"

"Please stop making all of my problems sound moronic."

"I wasn't trying," she said. "I think you have a legitimate complaint now. He could have at least lied to you or something."

Alec sighed, sat up, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "He doesn't lie when he's drunk. I shouldn't have even asked." He looked so forlorn that Maia was tempted to get up and give him a hug, except she wasn't the huggy type. She settled for patting his arm instead.

"I can't really help you with that, unfortunately… but if you want the experience really fast, you could go ahead and sleep with four hundred and seventy people," she suggested.

Alec's expression didn't change, but she thought his left eye twitched a bit. "I'm going to throw something at you."

Maia laughed and held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Point taken. I have to go, I was supposed to meet up with a couple of guys from the pack and make sure the vampires stay out of our territory about fifteen minutes ago. But let me know how everything works out, okay? I'll still bite him if you need me to."

"Thanks, I think."

"No problem. Thanks for the coffee!" she picked up the cup and headed for the door, throwing the glaring waitress a big smile on the way out. Then she thought of something and stuck her head back in. "Hey," she called. Alec glanced up from the salt shaker he was toying with. "If you _do_ decide to sleep with four hundred and seventy people, you might want to get started soon. It's going to take a while."

The bus driver gave Maia a very odd look when she got on, probably because she was covered in salt. She didn't care. It had been worth it.

* * *

_7:18 p.m._

For lack of anything better to do, and because he was not going to sleep with four hundred seventy people – he didn't know _twenty_ people well enough to want to sleep with them – Alec went home and crawled back into bed.

Sleep was still eluding him, dancing just out of reach and singing "Nyah nyah nyah!". He could hear Jace and Clary's voices in the next room. He'd pulled the pillow back over his head when the sounds of romantic happiness got to be too much to bear – it was like adding insult to injury.

Maia was right, he thought, he really should just go back to Magnus's, apologize for being immature, and they could get things back on track. Magnus didn't even _remember_ telling him he wasn't that good in bed. If he put it out of his mind, it would be like it had never happened.

Still, that meant Magnus had slept with about ten thousand people who were better than him.

Alec swore, kicked the mattress, and wished he'd let Maia boot his skull in.

* * *

_9:01 p.m._

Magnus's once-pristine sheet of paper was now covered in names, dates, details, notes, arrows, the occasional rude epithet, and a lot of scribbles.

After Gareth, there were the seven Sarahs – he'd broken up with Sarah #1 and dated the next six so he didn't have to worry about whose name he was yelling – then someone in the back room of that club, a girl who was named either Janice or Clarice… Magnus flipped the paper over only to discover that side was a jumble of words and doodles as well. Oh, and that one werewolf he'd gone to heal. The werewolf had been so very proud of himself for scaring away two vampires from one of the younger members of his pack that he hadn't noticed he'd gotten an arm ripped off in the fight. Very attractive man, though, even half-conscious and covered in blood.

Chairman Meow had long since retired to the windowsill to wash. He watched with feline amusement now as Magnus mumbled under his breath, tugging on his hair, and scribbled down 'Daniel' in the last empty spot on the page. Magnus didn't actually remember whether he had slept with Daniel or not, but he would have if he'd gotten the opportunity and they had both been drunk at the same parties sometimes, so he'd count it.

"Mrowl?"

"I know, I know," Magnus sighed, tossing the pen down and rubbing his temples. He'd wasted an entire day doing this and only managed to come up with about three hundred people and the knowledge that he was some kind of slut. Sure, twenty thousand didn't really seem like that many to him, especially when he broke it down to maybe two or three partners a month, but there were a lot of names on that paper. He was starting to see why Alec was so upset. "Don't give me that look. I know I'm a casual sex fiend. _You_ try living for eight hundred years, it gets lonesome after a while." Half the time he hadn't even cared about the sex – he'd just wanted the company. Now that he had actually gotten what he was looking for, twenty thousand, eight hundred and fifty seven people made him sound like he was either pathetically lonely or a sexual predator.

He crumpled the list into a ball. Chairman Meow's head popped up at the promising noise of paper crinkling. "Want the ball, sweetie? Go get it!" Magnus flung the paper ball into the hall. Chairman Meow _threw_ himself off the windowsill, scuttled across the floor, took the corner so hard he nearly skidded into the wall, and tore down the hallway at Mach 5. "Small things amuse small minds," Magnus murmured fondly.

After a few minutes of introspection, Magnus decided the best route to take would be to call Alec, apologize for being insensitive, apologize for anything else he might have said that offended him, and hopefully then they could move on from this. First, though, he needed a shower – and not a rush job like this morning, a proper, relaxing shower with conditioning and moisturizing and necessary things like that. Then, he'd do what he had to.

As it turned out, he didn't have to do anything – not a minute after he stepped out of the shower, someone pounded on his door.

"Always when I'm not dressed…" Magnus muttered, yanking the same pair of jeans on. He threw on a shirt as well, just in case he needed to look vaguely professional, and went to get the door.

* * *

_9:45 p.m._

"Look, I don't want to have to sleep with four hundred and seventy people so we can be equals again!"

The words had made a lot more sense before he'd said them.

Magnus opened and closed his mouth a few times. He raised a finger as if to make a point, then dropped it, shook his head, and said, "_What_?" Before Alec could even say a word, he went on, "What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

Alec sighed and shoved his hair out of his eyes. "I really have no idea."

"Neither do I." Magnus looked him over for a minute. "You're soaking wet."

"It's raining."

"I see. All right, come in." The warlock took him by the elbow, tugged him inside, and shut the door. Alec was almost immediately accosted by the cat, who was carrying a ball of crumpled paper in his mouth and looked very pleased with himself. He dropped the ball on Alec's boot and backed away, much like a puppy that wanted to play fetch. Magnus scooped up the makeshift toy before Alec could and flung it into the kitchen. "Never mind that."

Alec was led down the hall, plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, and told to "just hang on a minute" while Magnus fussed around in the bathroom. Knowing that Magnus's definition of a minute could be anywhere from ten seconds to three hours, Alec slumped back onto the pillows and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He wasn't going to be able to sleep until they sorted this out.

"Okay." The warlock was back, hair still damp but no longer sticking up in thirteen different directions. He sat down next to Alec, nail file in hand, and began critically inspecting his fingernails. "So what exactly was that back there, and why didn't you just come in?"

"I lost my key," Alec said, purposely avoiding the first question.

"Again?" Magnus sighed. "I swear, I'm going to staple that thing to your forehead."

Rather than ask how he was expected to use a key that was stuck to his forehead, like he was tempted to, he said, "It might be on the counter in the bathroom. With my contacts." Ninety percent of the things he had lost in the past five months had turned up on Magnus's bathroom counter. He'd even found his boots there once, although he suspected Magnus had put them there to prove a point. What Jace had said once about Alec having the attention span of a piece of toast was probably accurate.

The awkward silence stretched on, the only sound being that of the file scraping against Magnus's nails. The noise was grating on Alec's nerves. Magnus was probably doing it on purpose so he would crack first and tell him what was wrong. _Wow, I am incredibly paranoid. _Still, he wasn't giving in. Magnus could go on and file his nails all night if he wanted to.

To his surprise, right before he thought he was going to snap and fling the damn file out the window, Magnus abruptly stopped and said, "Listen, I don't know exactly how to apologize for sleeping with so many people before I met you –" There was a subtle emphasis on those last few words, as if to say 'so it's not like I was cheating on you'. "– but I'm sorry for being tactless about it. I didn't realize the subject would bother you so much."

Alec had a sudden urge to laugh, though he didn't know why – maybe because Magnus was under the impression he was still hung up on that, maybe because he was a little bit right. "I'm not mad about that! I don't _care_ if you slept with twenty thousand people before me! I mean, it sounds kind of excessive, but I'm not really in a position to judge, so I'll get over it. I'm just annoyed because _apparently_ you've been with about ten thousand people who are better in bed than me!" There, he'd said it. He'd said it and it sounded ridiculous and Magnus was just staring at him like he'd sprouted another pair of arms. He pressed his palms against his eyes, twined his fingers into his hair, and mumbled, "This is the part where you lie and say you don't care."

There was a soft _fwump_ as Magnus flopped back onto the bed (gracefully, Alec assumed, he did everything gracefully). "I don't care," he said.

"Liar."

There was another pregnant pause, this one less awkward and more miserable. Alec was just beginning to wonder how it was that he'd come here to apologize for overreacting and ended up being unreasonable about this whole thing instead when Magnus suddenly snagged the front of his sweater, said, "Come here," and _yanked_.

Had Alec been expecting this, there was no way that Magnus would have been able to make him move. A warlock accustomed to using magic for most heavy lifting had little chance of even budging one hundred and forty nine pounds of dead weight. But Alec was caught off guard (and was used to this treatment), so he moved with it, twisting his legs at the same time so he landed in an undoubtedly sensual position on top of Magnus.

The warlock smiled up at him, and Alec immediately decided that if Magnus was going to try and avoid this by being pretty and seductive, just like he'd done _last_ night, it was not going to work.

…well. Much. If he did, he wasn't getting away with it this time.

Luckily, Magnus didn't appear to have any less-than-honorable intentions, because he just wound his arms around Alec's back to anchor him there and said, "I told you I'd been with ten thousand people who were better at _having sex_ than you?"

"You said I was in the 'better half of twenty thousand'," Alec said. He was absolutely certain those had been the exact words, as he'd been repeating them in his head for about seventeen hours now.

Magnus's smile melted into a look of confusion. "And… this is a bad thing?" Alec's expression must have tipped him off that the answer was a resounding 'yes', so he added, "It's not, if you think about it. I didn't specify _where_ in the better ten thousand you were, and even if you were at the bottom – no pun intended – that still means there are ten thousand people worse than you. Like Tim, for example. He had no idea, you should ask me about that sometime. Or, perhaps not. Stop scowling like that, you'll give yourself wrinkles. You learn quickly enough, anyway. And you don't have a gag reflex… that bumps you up on the list. I like that."

"So I've heard," Alec said dryly, resting his chin in his hand and not caring if his elbow dug into Magnus's ribcage. This was easily the weirdest conversation he had ever had with anyone, ever, but it was strangely less uncomfortable than he'd thought it would be.

"If you're concerned with the effects this has on our relationship – well, first of all, it hasn't had any, and second, I wasn't lying when I said I didn't care. You could decide to be completely celibate tomorrow, and, while I would be very sad, that wouldn't change anything because I am not in this for the sex. Which, I might add, is excellent."

"Do you even _realize _how mixed the signals you're sending me are?"

"You aren't getting it, honey." Magnus let go of Alec, only to take his face in his hands and pull his head down so their foreheads were touching. Alec was strongly reminded of the previous night, where Magnus had done almost the same thing and remarked that he could see his contacts. Even without them (he really should get up and put them in, squinting at everything gave him _such_ a headache), they were so close together that Magnus's face was thrown into sharp detail. Alec studied him for a moment and decided there had to be some kind of law against being that striking. Then Magnus started talking again, breaking his concentration. "How good or bad you are in bed compared to twenty thousand, eight hundred and fifty seven mostly-random people doesn't matter. I could not possibly be happier with anyone else than I am with you, right now, because I love you."

Alec stared. Magnus told him he loved him frequently (he'd gotten up to forty-nine last night before passing out), but he hadn't heard him sound so serious since the first time, when they'd both been covered in demon ash and moments away from fighting for their lives. He didn't know what to say back then and he didn't now.

Magnus promptly saved him from having to come up with a response, because he smiled brightly once again, kissed him, and said, "Okay?"

He was really good at ruining the moment, Alec thought. "Do you take all your romantic cues from bad teenage dramas?"

Magnus flicked him on the side of the head. "Don't trivialize my heartfelt confessions."

After a moment, Alec rolled off him and sat up, facing the window. "Well, now I feel like an idiot," he muttered, running his fingers through his damp hair. He'd actually been feeling like an idiot since about seven-thirty in the morning, Maia hadn't exactly done anything to alleviate it, and now he found his concerns had been completely invalid and he'd been getting all worked up over nothing, just because he had more pride than he knew what to do with.

"Oh, don't be." Magnus gently tugged on the hem of his sweater, then slid his hand up his shirt and stroked his back. "If you'd told _me_ I was terrible in bed, I'd be sulking and drama-queening my head off. _You_ only yelled at me once. I'm impressed."

"That's not really helping."

"Sorry, love. Want me to fix it?"

Alec wasn't really paying attention, so he didn't register the implications behind that comment, and said, "Sure, go ahead," without thinking. It was for that reason that he yelped in surprise when Magnus all but pounced on him, knocking him back onto the mattress. "Hey, what a –"

Then he shut up, because he had something a lot better to do with his mouth than talk.

* * *

_10:56 p.m._

"Why the _hell_ didn't we just stay in bed?!"

"I imagine it's because we both lack basic common sense."

"I agree." Alec tilted his head as far back as he could and looked at the television. "Oh, look, it's over." A blurry set of credits was scrolling across the screen, upside-down.

"Is it? I wasn't paying attention."

"Me either. This was a terrible idea."

"I know, I know. I accept all blame. We will not be doing this again."

"Good," Alec said. He tugged the sleeves of his sweatshirt down – well, it wasn't really his, he'd taken the first articles of clothing he could find and one of them happened to be an red hoodie that belonged to Magnus. Alec was pretty sure the jeans were his as well, judging by the scattered specks of glitter, but clothes were clothes. "Seriously, why did we do that?" They had gotten a bit too involved with one another (on the rather rough carpet in the den, unfortunately) and he'd completely missed the show. He didn't remember the name – it was the one with the druggie doctor who Alec thought was rather what Jace would be like in thirty years – or the plot or most of the characters, since he had enough trouble keeping up with his own life without caring about fifteen other fictional people. It was a nice distraction, though.

They'd been distracted from their distraction. That was definitely a first.

Magnus sighed contentedly and stretched his arms up over his head. Alec seized this opportunity to curl into his side, putting his head on his shoulder. "So," Magnus said, "when you said you didn't want to sleep with four hundred and seventy people, what _were_ you talking about?"

"Oh, I was complaining to Maia and somehow she figured out that you slept with that many people in eighteen years, and I should too so we would be even." Magnus raised an eyebrow, and Alec said, "Yeah, I'm not going to ask her for advice anymore."

"I wouldn't either." The warlock was quiet for a minute, absently winding locks of Alec's hair around his finger – he'd been utterly _delighted_ when he had found out his hair curled when it was wet, and he'd kept messing around with it until Alec wanted to deck him. Now he kept the fussing to a minimum and just played. "One more thing, about last night – were we talking about marshmallows? I very vividly remember you saying _something_ about marshmallows, but I can't remember what."

"Marshmallows make everything better."

Magnus snapped his fingers, sending a flurry of neon blue sparks into the air. "That was it." He paused, then said, "I thought it was chocolate that made everything better."

"I'm allergic to chocolate."

When Magnus didn't instantly offer a witty retort, Alec glanced up at him and found him gaping. "Are you _really_?"

"Yes…" Alec said slowly, unsure why this was a big deal.

Magnus shook his head and ruffled his fingers through Alec's hair again. "I did not know that."

"I didn't know you'd slept with twenty thousand, eight hundred fifty seven people before you met me."

"By that definition… twenty thousand, eight hundred fifty six."

Alec looked up again to see Magnus staring very resolutely at the ceiling. "…I'm going to assume you have a very good explanation for this and that's why you brought it up."

"In fact, I do. It was right after that party I had where we met, and not only were we barely acquainted, but you were seventeen and I didn't want any of your scary family members out for my blood, so I am beyond reproach."

"Of course you are," Alec muttered, but he didn't press the issue. Magnus was still stroking his hair and it was having a very lulling effect.

"You're really allergic to chocolate?"

Alec rolled his eyes. "Yes, really."

"Great," Magnus huffed, "there go about fourteen of my fantasies."

"Fourteen? Do you have a numbered list or something?"

"Indeed." Wincing, Magnus rubbed one of his knees. "We really shouldn't have done that."

"Don't whine, I got all of the rug burn."

"_Most_ of the rug burn. Anyway, going along with the whole 'you should _tell_ me what you're mad about if I don't know' lesson, you should also tell me if I'm going to accidentally kill you with innocent confectionery."

"It won't kill me, I'll just get sick. You're more paranoid than I am sometimes." Alec yawned and threw an arm over Magnus's stomach. He usually wasn't partial to sleeping on the floor (although Magnus said he actually did it quite often), except it was horizontal and flat and that was all he needed right now.

"Still. Is there anything else I don't know?"

Alec thought about this for a minute. "When we were thirteen, Jace and I stole some vampire's motorcycle."

"That wasn't quite what I meant."

"And crashed it." Into a brick wall, even. Neither of them had completely mastered _iratzes_ yet, but a snowball was going to have a very long and fulfilling life down in Hell before they told Robert and Maryse what they had been up to, so they both bore scars from that little incident.

"I see." Magnus sounded amused. He was _still_ playing with Alec's hair, probably twisting it into spikes if the gentle tugging was any indication. Alec pressed his cheek further into the soft fabric of Magnus's shirt and tried to figure out exactly when he had closed his eyes. "Was there any leather involved?"

"I was _thirteen_. Don't be creepy. How did the last twenty thousand plus people put up with you?"

"I am attractive and alluring. That was enough for most of them."

"Oh." There was more conversation (ludicrous though it was) to be had. However, sleep was hovering on the edge of his consciousness and beckoning invitingly. You should come over here, it was saying. It's quiet. And there is no talking. Only sleeping. Real sleeping, not that crap you've been doing all week. What the hell is wrong with you? Were you trying to break some kind of record for staying awake?

"Alec?"

Like you can talk, Alec told it. You haven't exactly been turning up when I need you. What do you think I pay you for?

You don't pay me. I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart. And, hey, I'm not the one having a conversation with a figment of my sub-consciousness. Now pay attention, your boyfriend's being sweet.

Alec just felt Magnus press his lips to his forehead, just caught his murmured, "Good night, love," and then he was finally asleep.

* * *

…I swear there's an explanation for this story, but I'm tired and kind of amazed that I wrote OVER NINE THOUSAAAAND!!! cohesive words, so you're just going to have to live without one.

Reviews will be used to power my MacBook. It was the greatest Christmas gift EVARRR.


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